


Off the Beaten Road

by Queen_of_Moons67



Series: Hardy Boys Crossovers [3]
Category: Hardy Boys - Franklin W. Dixon, Supernatural
Genre: Azazel (Supernatural)'s Special Children, Brotherly Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Little Brothers, hurt Joe, worried frank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 05:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10824840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_of_Moons67/pseuds/Queen_of_Moons67
Summary: What would have happened if Joe Hardy was one of Azazel's children, and arrived in Cold Oak at the same time as Sam Winchester?





	Off the Beaten Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bookdancer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookdancer/gifts).



> I do not own Supernatural or the Hardy Boys.

"Frankie, I'm home!" The blonde-haired, blue-eyed man shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing through the large entryway. The answer was a clatter and a thud, then an exclamation of surprise and pain. The young man's expression grew worried, and he tossed down his large bag in favor of taking the stairs two at a time. He slowed as he reached each bedroom, glancing inside before hurrying to the next one. At the the third one, he sighed in relief and a little bit of laughter as he took in what was inside. "Did you get so desperate to see me when you heard my voice that you decided to go through the floor?" he laughed.

"Haha, Joe," Frank said dryly, rolling his brown eyes even as he shifted to get a better view of his brother. "Sorry if the last time I saw you was when you were still healing after that accident. Can you move the bookcase, though? I'd like to greet my little brother looking down, not up."

Joe forced a laugh out and the memory -  _the cars collided right in front of him all he wanted to do was help take away some of the pain he didn't want it all but it was overwhelming and he was dying and oh would it ever_ ** _stop_**  - away and stepped carefully over the scattered books. "You sure you don't want me to rescue your precious babies first?" he teased.

"If we were at my house? That should be your immediate response," Frank joked, laughing and then groaning. "But we're at this crazy big mansion that Mom, Dad, and Aunt Trudy rented for the weekend, so they aren't my books, and I think I broke a rib or two."

Joe paused, taking in the way that the top of the bookcase lay across his brother's chest, and nodded, conceding that it was plausible. He reached down, got a firm grip on the piece of furniture, and heaved it upwards. Once he had it settled upright, he did the same for Frank, making sure to touch bare skin on his arm and school his expression into one of worry, not letting the pain show. "Huh," his older brother remarked, frowning in consideration and carefully testing his own ribs once he was standing. "I don't think they're broken after all. Maybe a little bruised, but nothing too bad."

Joe reached out to test for himself, forced a smile, and pulled away with a fake laugh as Frank playfully elbowed him in the side, right where his cracked ribs were.

* * *

"Boys!"

The familiarity of the call made Frank smile, even as he corrected, "Men, Aunt Trudy! Men! Joe is twenty-three now, and I'm twenty-four. We're both out of college, and we have steady jobs. I think we've earned the title."

"He's right, Trudy," their mom said, smiling sadly. "My little boys are all grown up."

Aunt Gertrude huffed and shook her head. "Nonsense, Laura. These two will always be little boys, especially since they're stupid enough to go into that detective business together, but work cases separately!"

"It was only recently!" Joe protested. "Normally we work together, but then I had my accident and Frank had to keep working and then a new case came up that I had to do and it all spiraled out of control."

"Well," Aunt Trudy said, raising an eyebrow, "hopefully you can keep your car on the road while you go get chocolate. I intend to make cookies, but I've forgotten the chips."

Frank looked at his father as the man announced his arrival by clapping a hand on his shoulder, but neither of them could keep from chuckling as Joe's eyes lit up.

"I'm on it!" the youngest person in the house announced, and then glanced at his brother. "Coming with me, Frank?"

"Go on," Fenton insisted, and Frank's eyes narrowed as he watched his brother flinch when their father's hand landed on his shoulder too. "I'll keep the beast under control," the eldest man joked.

Their father's pretend wince and laughter as Aunt Trudy called out, "I heard that, Fenton Hardy!" helped erase the incident from Frank's mind, but it didn't do the job completely. As he and his younger brother headed for the car, Frank decided to confront Joe about it.

* * *

Joe stormed across the parking lot to the grocery store after slamming the car door in his brother's shocked face. What was Frank doing? Just because he was older didn't mean that he had to know every little thing about Joe's life! And yeah, ok, maybe this wasn't a little thing, and was actually the biggest thing to happen to Joe since he got accepted to his number one college, and quite possibly ever, but that still didn't give Frank the right to try and take apart every bit of his life!

Joe spun around the corner into the baking aisle and immediately stopped, slowly taking a step back as he registered the five brutally murdered people lying in different positions all around him, and the medium-height man, splattered in blood, still standing in the middle of the lane. "Joe," the creepy yellow-eyes glinted in the light as the murderer turned to face him. "I've been waiting for you." The man smiled, and Joe's shout was cut off before he could get out a sound.

* * *

Frank looked up from the steering wheel - which hadn't done anything to help him solve his problems - to stare at the crowd of people evacuating the store, alarms coming from inside and sirens echoing in the distance, and he just knew. He knew it as sure as he knew that he had gone to Bayport High all four years of high school. Joe wasn't in that building, and he wasn't coming out.

* * *

"JOE?!" Frank screamed, frantically scanning the crowd of people. He had shaken off the feeling - of course Joe was here, he couldn't be anywhere else - and gotten out of his car, running towards the grocery store. "JOE?! Joe, answer me!" The older brother reached out and grabbed a passing man's arm, halting him where he was. "Have you seen my brother?" Frank demanded desperately. "He's a little over six foot, blonde hair, blue eyes, early twenties!"

The man shook his head, eying the Hardy Boy with anger. "Let go, man!" He tore his arm from Frank's grasp and hurried away.

If that had happened in any other situation, the twenty-four year old would have been mad. But right now, with his little brother missing, the incident didn't even register in Frank's brain. "JOE!" He screamed again, going back to scanning the crowds while fighting his way through. "JOE?! Answer me right now, Joe!"

A hand wrapped around Frank's wrist, and he twisted, unwilling to waste time with this person, but they persisted, their grip strong. "Son?" A voice asked gently, then commanded, "Son! Look at me."

Frank hesitated, then turned to face an elderly woman. Her eyes were kind, wrinkles formed from smiles and laughter - the complete opposite of the man earlier. "Have you seen my brother?" Frank asked, voice cracking for the first time since Joe's accident.  _Have you seen my brother? He was brought in for a car accident, I was... I was told it was really bad, his name's Joe Hardy, he's my younger brother, have you seen him can you tell me where he is is he okay tell me they were lying please tell me they were lying..._

The old woman shook her head. Frank prepared to turn, to keep looking for Joe, but the woman's grip was surprisingly strong and she held on. "He might be..." The woman paused, voice shaking, and Frank looked at her, really looked. Her fear, how kind she was to help him anyway, how people jostled her as they rushed past, registered in his brain. He rested a hand gently on her forearm and led her in-between two cars, where she didn't risk being trampled. She smiled thankfully, but Frank couldn't smile back. Not until he found his brother. "He might be in the aisles."

Frank started, realizing that she had spoken. "Excuse me?"

She smiled tremulously, not a smile at all, and repeated, "He might be in the aisles. I'll pray for you that he's not, but he might be." She turned and slipped away before Frank could ask what she meant.

The elder Hardy Boy turned and faced the grocery store, straightened his shoulders, and started pushing upstream through the people. He had a brother to find.

* * *

Joe woke up slowly, the smell of copper lingering in his nose. "Frank...?" he muttered, opening his eyes only to squeeze them shut again as light pierced them. "Ugh... I feel like... like... ugh. I feel like ugh." Opening his eyes again, fraction by fraction, Joe sat up at the same time and peered around. His eyes widened at the sight. "Woah... Don't tell me time travel is real. I didn't even see a DeLorean before I..." Joe trailed off as what he saw came back to him.

Standing up quickly, Joe yelled, "FRANK?! Frank, where are you?" When there was no answer, Joe relaxed slightly. So maybe his brother was ok. Maybe he hadn't been involved in whatever this was. Maybe - "Ow..." Joe moaned as he twisted towards the direction of a loud scream too fast. "Maybe I forgot about the fact I have cracked ribs, and I should probably go over there."

* * *

Sam turned around as he heard someone calling out, eyes widening as he saw three people headed towards him, Andy, and Ava. Two were coming from the same direction, and the third approached from a different area.

"Hey, you guys alright?" Sam questioned once they'd all met up.

"We are," a tall African American shrugged, gesturing to the woman he's met before.

"Nothing I didn't have before," a blonde-haired man shrugged, then grimaced and held his ribs.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "And what did you have before?"

"Cracked ribs," Blondie grinned. "Nothing to worry about."

"If you're sure..." Sam said slowly, eyeing him. He looked like he could look after himself, but then again, the younger Winchester brother didn't know him. Speaking of... "How 'bout we do introductions? I'm Sam. This is Andy and Ava."

"Jake."

"Lily."

"Joe. Anybody know what we're doing here?"

"Sam thinks he knows," Andy blurted. "He was about to tell me and Ava."

All eyes turned to Sam, who coughed awkwardly. "Right. Uh, well, I don't know about you guys, but the three of us have special abilities, and we're all twenty-three."

The other men nodded, but Lily scoffed. "There's nothing 'special' about it, ok? I touch people, their hearts stop. I can barely leave my house. My life's not exactly improved. So, screw you. I just wanna go home."

"Hey, I understand," Joe said gently. Lily snorted and shook her head. "No, really. If I touch people, I take on their injuries. At first I didn't know how to control it, and I almost killed myself."

Lily snarled and marched up into his face. Joe stood still, watching her calmly. "Yourself. Not other people." She paused, and Sam watched her carefully. Joe waited dutifully, silently urging her to get whatever it was off her chest. "I accidentally touched my girlfriend."

"I'm sorry," Joe said gently. "I don't know what that's like. But I do..." He took a deep breath, then continued, "I'm a private investigator. A detective, and I have been since I was a teenager. My girlfriend was killed in a terrorist attack that, to this day, I feel like I could have stopped. If I had just done something... If I had had the powers I do now... And even now, I have to be careful. I can't take on too many injuries, or people will notice or I'll kill myself on accident, and then I won't be able to help others. Sometimes people die because I  _choose_  not to help them. Because I..." Joe shook his head. "The point is, you aren't alone."

Lily eyed him, her gaze softening, and sidled closer to Joe, more relaxed. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's not your fault," Joe responded. "Just like your girlfriend." Lily gave a small smile and nodded.

"Right," Andy interrupted the moment. "So what about anyone else?"

"What about you?" Jake shot back.

Andy shrugged, not bothered at all. "I can send people thoughts and images; make them do stuff. Kinda like Simon Says."

"I get visions of when one of us are going to die..." Ava whispered softly. "It... there were supposed to be more of us."

They were all silent for a moment, and then Jake said, "I have super strength."

"I see things before they happen," Sam said.

They all looked at each other, and then Andy asked, "So, who brought us here?"

"And are we thinking time travel, or is that too out there?" Joe joked, trying to make the mood happier.

* * *

Blood. That was all Frank could see, staring into that aisle. Blood. Blood on the shelves. Blood on the floor. Blood on the ceiling. Blood on the bodies lying limp, slumped over dropped groceries. Blood. Dark red in most places, already brown and black in others, but always blood. There was no escaping it. And there was no sign of Joe.

* * *

 

Apparently, the others didn't think it was the time, as Joe got glares all around. "Woah, sorry," the Hardy Boy apologized, holding up his hands. "Didn't realize this was a no-joke-zone. I'm just trying to make everyone more comfortable."

"Yeah, well… Now's not exactly the best time," Sam muttered, glancing around at all the others. He freely admitted to himself that he didn't trust any of them - even the private investigator could be lying about who he was, trying to integrate himself into the group. Unfortunately, he didn't have the luxury to fully entertain that idea. Too many of them couldn't protect themselves from humans, let alone the monsters they didn't know existed. "And personally, I'm going for abandoned ghost town."

* * *

_Frank groaned as he looked up from his current case. Joe had left earlier, finished with his, and he was stuck in the office for at least another hour finishing his extra-detailed report for the client, per request. The ringing phone would just keep him there later. 'Frank Hardy, Private - what did you say?'_

_Frank barreled through the emergency room doors, eyes wide in panic, and crashed into the front desk after barely avoiding the line of people waiting there. "Have you seen my brother?" he questioned, panting and ignoring the glares from nurses and patients alike. "He was brought in for a car accident, I was… I was told it was really bad, his name's Joe Hardy, he's my younger brother, have you seen him can you tell me where he is is he okay tell me they were lying please tell me they were lying…" Frank gasped for breath, his father's hand landing heavy and grounding on his shoulder._

_"_ _I apologize for the interruption," his father said evenly, the same panic Frank felt underlying in his words. "I was told my son Joe Hardy was in surgery for a car accident, and that it was urgent we get here in case…" his father couldn't even speak the words, and Frank turned into his steady shoulder, hiding his face from the world for the first time in years._

Frank gasped, shaking himself and refocusing on the blood. Reliving the worst night of his life wouldn't help him get through what appeared to be the worst day of it, and it wouldn't save Joe.

* * *

Joe gaped at where the ghost had stood, then gaped at Sam - apparently a monster hunter, and Joe honestly never thought he'd find someone with a cooler job than him - and then gaped at Jake just to have someone to share the gaping experience with.  _His brother was right there he could tell him in an instant all it would take was a few words and - he'd be in a psych ward, his brother would never trust him again, he'd never get another case - this life changer had to be his own experience and no one else's_. "That was a ghost," he managed.

Sam nodded.

"You just killed it."

Sam started to nod, frowned, started to shake his head, shrugged. "I sent it away for awhile. It'll be somewhere around here still, and there might be others, so be careful. Carry iron or salt with you everywhere, got it?"

Everyone nodded.

* * *

Frank turned over another body wearing a grey sweatshirt - you had to wear grey, Joe, it had to be the most popular sweatshirt color in the world - and sighed in relief as another stranger stared up at him.

_The doctor led them through the halls of the Intensive Care Unit slowly, explaining Joe's condition as they went. Broken ribs, collapsed lung, internal bleeding. Somehow, he hadn't bled out before arriving at the hospital - based on the estimated crash time, he should have. The fact he survived surgery was a miracle. Now he just needed to survive the night._

_They turned into Joe's room, and Frank felt like it was his chest that had been crushed in the accident, breath rushing from his lungs. Joe looked like a stranger, lying small and still in a hospital-issued gown, oxygen mask and tubes threading everywhere…_

Frank gasped again and, making a decision, reached for his phone. If he didn't call his father, he would never make it through the entire store.

* * *

Fenton screeched to a halt in front of the grocery store, all of the red and blue lights and flashes from cameras - both police issued and news - making it unrecognizable from the place he'd driven by just the day before. Laura and Trudy opened their doors simultaneously, booking it toward the person who looked like the county sheriff. Not even bothering to lock the car, Fenton followed as quickly as he could.

"-Can't let you go in, ma'am," the sheriff finished as the eldest Hardy detective came into hearing distance, shaking his head. "This is an active crime scene. We're interviewing all the witnesses, and any with more serious injuries the medics are shuttling to the hospital. Your sons could be here or there."

"My son told me he's still inside," Fenton intervened. "Looking for his brother."

The sheriff sighed. "Frank Hardy?" All three Hardy's nodded. "We found him and had to practically drag him out. He's over there," the sheriff nodded towards one of the ambulances.

* * *

Joe breathed heavily as he ran, chasing Lily with Sam right beside him. "Lily!" he called, searching the forest for her. "She didn't mean it, she didn't… we're all just stressed, and Ava lashed out! Lily!"

An hour later, they returned to the town to find her hanging from the windmill.

Andy sent out a message to Dean, Sam's older brother, using his receipt that the youngest Winchester had in his pocket. Joe stared out at the horizon, hands buried in his own, and wished he had something of Frank's.

* * *

"Frank! Frank!"

 _"_ _Frank! Where is he? Where's Joe?" Biff demanded, storming into Joe's room in the ICU and shrugging off the various doctors and nurses trying to block his way._

 _"_ _Sir! You can't be in here, only family -"_

 _"_ _He is family," Frank whispered, turning back around to clench his brother's fingers tighter within his own._

"Frank!"

Frank started, looking up into the concerned faces of his parents and Aunt Trudy. "He's not here," he whispered, clenching his fingers around the floor of the ambulance beneath him. "We had an argument and he went in alone and now he's not here and it's all my fault… it's all my fault."

"You listen to me," Laura said firmly, taking his hands in her own. "You listen to me right now, Frank Hardy, and you listen well. This was not your fault. This was the work of a madman who we are going to hunt down and turn over to the police. And when we do that, we can take Joe home because he is alive right now, and he needs our help but he is alive. No other reason exists for him to be missing right now than that that madman took him alive. Do you hear me?"

 _"_ _I need you to wake up, Joe," Frank pleaded. "Do you hear me? I can't survive without you. I know we're working different cases, but this business, this life,_ any _life, I can't do it without you. I can't survive without you little brother, so I need you to listen to me and wake up. Please, Joe. I- I'm begging you."_

"I hear you," Frank nodded, steeling his face as he stood.

* * *

"I- I don't understand," Joe shook his head, facing Ava in shock. "You've killed people? You've killed  _kids_? You killed Lily and Andy? You're trying to kill  _us_?! Why!" By the time he was done, the detective was yelling in the face of a person he had connected with and, if he was truthful with himself, had seen hope in. She had such a handle on what he saw as a curse, and despite the vast differences in their abilities, he had seen himself in her. He had thought he gained a second family, one he could take home so his mother could nurture them and his father could basically adopt them and he and Frank could laugh as Aunt Trudy frightened them. Some detective he was, Joe thought, that he couldn't see Ava's true colors staring him in the face. If he had, Lily and Andy might still be alive.

"JOE!" Jake and Sam's combined roar broke through his thoughts just in time to duck the old desk Ava telekinetically threw at him.

* * *

Frank slammed the back door of his parents' car and slumped in the seat, hating the way the leather molded around his shoulders.

_Frank startled awake on the cot the nurses had kindly provided, back aching and shivering in the cold._

"Don't give up, son," Fenton said firmly. "We'll find your brother."

"I don't doubt that, Dad," Frank replied, voice hard and accusing, upset anyone would ever think he'd give up on Joe. "I just… what if we just find his body?"

"Then you live for him," Aunt Trudy said, fierce belief in her eyes, "because he wouldn't want anything else."

* * *

Those yellow eyes, Joe had figured, would haunt him in his nightmares for years. He had hoped they would wait until after all this was over and he was back home, but apparently not.

"Joe," Yellow-Eyes - Azazel, Sam had called him - smiled. "My surprise horse in the race. I didn't try to make you, you know. But that Aunt Trudy of yours, she's someone to be reckoned with and, believe it or not, extremely protective of her younger brother. He'd only just met your mother when he died on a case, I was checking on another investment when we met and, well… the rest, as they say, was history."

Joe snarled, angry at Azazel's cavalier recounting of how their family almost never came to be. If he meant to set them against each other, he failed - Joe would rather have this curse than never have Frank as a brother.

* * *

"You need sleep, Frank," Laura admonished, guiding her exhausted son into the rented house. "We all do, and no arguments. None of us are in any shape to find Joe right now."

 _"_ _You've had plenty of sleep, little brother. It's time to wake up_. _"_

* * *

Joe lay, gasping, on the ground from where Jake had thrown him. He gaped after Sam and the second person to betray them that day as the former drove the fight away from him. Joe desperately wanted to get up and join them, but the cracked ribs from partially healing Frank the day before - had it really only been a day? - had broken completely, sending bolts of pain through his body with every minuscule movement. By the time he got to his feet, Sam was stumbling towards two running figures in the distance, while Jake rose behind him with something sharp in hand.

"Sam!" Joe screamed in unison with the running figures, but it was too late. In an instant, Jake ran away - not trying to kill the detective, he figured, because one of the two newcomers came at Jake with a shotgun and hatred in his eyes. The other newcomer cradled Sam in his arms, kneeling in the mud. Joe staggered over, reaching for his friend. The man cradling him recoiled the best he could while maintaining a gentle hold on Sam, and Joe guessed this was the older brother Dean Sam talked so much about. "I can heal him," the detective panted out, easing himself to the ground, careful of his broken ribs.  _All he wanted to do was help take away some of the pain he didn't want it all but it was overwhelming and he was dying and oh would it ever stop_. Joe shook away the memory. That wouldn't happen again. He had better control, he could split the injury between Sam and himself. He hoped, anyway, he'd only ever tried it with small injuries that didn't bury him in the pain so much he couldn't think.

"You can what?" Dean asked, obviously skeptical.

"Sam has visions," Joe pointed out, ignoring how that statement immediately put the man more on guard. "I can heal… take the physical injuries from other people onto myself. I can control it, split it between me and Sam so that neither of us die." He didn't mention his doubt about his own control. With all Sam said, Dean didn't sound like the kind of man to let a stranger die to save his brother - and if he was wrong, he didn't think Sam would want to know that. As a fellow little brother, Joe thought they had some insight into each other's minds.

"Alright," Dean was saying, the mention of Sammy dying pushing him over his doubt. He had nothing to loose if the man was lying.

Joe touched Sam's shoulder, and his world exploded into pain.

* * *

The doorbell rang, waking Frank from his light sleep. Heaving himself up, he had to admit his mother was right - the short sleep had cleared his mind, though his body felt even more weighed down than before. Padding down the hall, bare feet almost silent against the wooden floors, he picked up speed as he realized what could have happened - the police could have found Joe, he could be here, he could be hurt, he could be - until Frank was rushing down the stairs and skipping the last four altogether, landing with a thump at the bottom. A few feet to the front door, which he threw open, and - two strangers?

"Hi," the short one said gruffly. "Frank Hardy?" Frank nodded. "We've got someone anxious to see you, if you could come to our car." He gestured at the road, where the Hardy Boy could see an old black car.

"Who?" Frank asked, frowning. After what happened to Joe, he wasn't about to just trust the word of any stranger.

"Your brother," the tall one snapped, obviously impatient for some reason. "He apparently became friends with my brother, who he then saved at risk to his own life, so honestly I'd call him a friend too. But we're kind of in the middle of saving the world right now, so we're in a hurry."

Frank didn't care. He'd wondered if it was a trick, unwilling to risk it and leave his parents and Aunt Trudy alone, but when the stranger mentioned Joe saving the other's brother, he knew it was him. He knew it was his brother. That was Joe, always jumping in to save someone. He didn't ask how, he just ran to his little brother.

_Frank dozed at Joe's bedside, sitting upright in a chair while his head bobbed, hand gripping his brother's. A finger twitch pulled him to the surface, spine snapping straight to stare at their intertwined hands and make sure he didn't imagine it. Then it came again, and this time Joe's hand entire hand rotated in his grasp to grip the elder's hand back. "Frank," a rusty voice, unused for a week, whispered. But Frank heard and he answered the call, standing so he could lean over his little brother, while still maintaining his hold on Joe's hand._

_"_ _I'm here, Joe. I'm here."_

* * *

Joe and Sam's heads rolled together in the back seat, propping each other up as both their bodies were too weak to do so on their own. The Winchester had the view of the house, and he shifted a little to get the Hardy Boy's attention. "Joe, he's coming."

Joe struggled to sit fully upright on his own, but couldn't and sighed. He had healed Sam, alright. He even managed to split the injury perfectly between them. What neither he nor Dean had realized was the full extent of the injury, in that the knife had severed Sam's spinal cord. So now they both had injured spinal cords that would eventually heal, as well as half-healed entry wounds. Joe had also found out that the one thing he couldn't heal was blood loss, but considering his broken ribs before healing Sam, they were pretty much in the same boat.

"Joe!" Frank cried, yanking the door to the Impala open.  _"I'm here, Joe. I'm here." His older brother's face swam over him, smiling softly through tears, and his hand gripped Joe's. They were both safe, and that was enough for him. Joe faded back into sleep, but his hand never released Frank's._

"Heya, Frank," Joe grinned weakly. "So you know how before, you accused me of keeping secrets and said I was gonna get myself killed? I'll admit, there may have been some truth to that."

Frank choked on a laugh, eyes suspiciously wet, and stretched out a hand. "We can talk once you're inside and everyone else has seen you. Come on."

"Uh-huh," Joe eyed the hand dubiously. "Just a warning, I've got wrapped broken ribs and a stitched and bandaged stab wound in the back, so don't drop me."

"You  _what_?!" Frank cried.

* * *

Fenton had heard his older son get up to answer the door, and intended to roll over and go back to sleep. That had failed, his thoughts full of his missing younger son, and so when he heard Frank's cry he leapt out of bed. By the time he reached the open door, it was to see an old black '67 Impala driving away while Frank carried Joe piggyback style up the front walkway. Pausing only to yell back in the house to Laura and Trudy, he hurried down to meet his sons.

* * *

Frank backed up to the couch and, with his parents supporting him, knelt to let Joe, supported by Aunt Trudy, fall back onto it. He immediately claimed the seat on his brother's right, while their mother took the left. Aunt Trudy and their father claimed seats across from them. "Alright, spill, Joe."

"You don't want to check my injuries first?" Joe tried.

"You said yourself they've been taken care of already, and considering you aren't bleeding out from a stab wound, I'm gonna believe you," Frank rebutted. "Now spill. What's been going on with you? Where did these injuries come from? Who were those people you were with?"

"Fine," Joe huffed. "You want the truth? It all started when…"

**Author's Note:**

> I'll leave it up to you, the reader, to decide what happens next. Does Joe tell the truth, or make up something more believable? If he tells the truth, do the rest of the Hardys believe him? Since Dean didn't sell his soul, what happens there? They have more time now, despite the detour to drop off Joe, than they did when Dean and Bobby mourned Sam for at least a day. Does that make a significant difference in keeping the Devil's Gate closed, or do Sam's injuries negate that? Your choice, reader. I'm sorry, but this is where my inspiration ends and so does the story. I may add more to it in the future, but for now this is it. I hope you enjoyed, and please comment!


End file.
